Routine
by zhyndia k
Summary: That is definitely not going to be part of my routine. Deathmask and Aphrodite. Humor?


First, this is definitely NOT Canon Deathmask and Aphrodite. Rather, they seem to be AU trashtalking versions of their normal selves with a habit of insulting other Saints behind their backs. St Seiya and its characters are really owned by Masami Kurumada, and I hope he won't take offense for what I just did. 

**Title** Routine (Word challenge - recondite)  
**Series** St Seiya  
**Word Count** 927  
**Characters/Pair** OOC Deathmask/Aphrodite, other pairs implied  
**Summary** "That is definitely not going to be part of my routine."

"Good morning! What are you doing, Angelo?" Aphrodite drawled his name out, and his playful tone set Deathmask's teeth on edge. Here he'd hoped to finish his warmups in peace but with the Pisces Gold Saint around that would be impossible. He counted off ten pushups before replying.

"You know exactly what I'm doing, you narcissistic she-male." When he finished another five he added, "And don't call me Angelo!"

Aphrodite plopped down on a nearby boulder, pouting. "I'll call you Angelo if I want to, assassin for hire. Here's a drachma, go kill Shaka for me, so I have no competition for the title of the prettiest Saint."

Deathmask cursed whatever whimsy of the gods made him reveal his real name to the Pisces Saint. Aphrodite found it amusing to needle him about it, saying it was a beautiful name for a murderer. He also liked to drop by during morning warm ups, practically ruining his daily routine of practice and sparring.

"Why don't you train and do that yourself?"

"And build up muscles like you do? No thank you!"

Deathmask believed strength was vital for the image of a sadistic bastard, and loved the tired, empty feeling he gets after a satisfactory workout. Aphrodite, on the other hand, rarely exerted any effort to train. Rather, the other man enjoyed spending his time loafing about looking beautiful with his roses and gossiping. That they would join their routines like this had always puzzled him, but he guessed no one else could tolerate Aphrodite's outrageous attitude.

"So, yesterday I caught Aiolia loitering away from his House, and I asked him what he was doing loitering outside Shaka's place. You should have seen the shade of red he turned into when I popped out of nowhere. Aiolia can't seem to work up the courage to just walk in and grab Shaka by the hair, caveman-style. Or maybe he's scared Shaka's gonna fry him if he tries to make his move."

"Aiolia wants to spar with Shaka?" He'd never seen Aiolia around the House of Virgo before - the Leo Saint wasn't really the type to go for Shaka's conversation on rebirth and human purpose. Let Shaka and Mu debate over such recondite topics - it never built up stamina or strength. "Why? His combat skill's worse than batshit."

Aphrodite gave him the 'how can you be so clueless?' look. "I meant Aiolia has the hots for Shaka."

Deathmask blanched. The urge to torture someone came and quickly passed when he glanced at his companion. Torturing Aphrodite, smearing blood across that perfect skin and watching those eyes glaze over with pain would be fun, but he'd have a bloodsucking white rose in his heart in the bargain. Not fun. "Aiolia's not gay."

"Homophobe," Aphrodite snickered, shaking his head. "Aiolia's always had a thing for his older brother bordering to incest, and Shaka's so virtuous he makes you want to molest him. I wonder what you would say if, say, two or three other Saints want Shaka too? I can name them," he helpfully added.

"I don't want to know." Finished with his pushups, Deathmask began to do crunches. He saw his companion grow silent, and paused.

"People do get so lonely in Sanctuary." The pensive look vanished, quickly chased away by laughter. "Well, maybe 'cept for Shura - he does like his privacy too much. I swear, I can feel his death glare whenever I pass through his house."

"It must be because you hit on him whenever you can," Deathmask muttered, not amused. He knew of Aphrodite's habits, and pissing off the Capricorn Gold Saint made him happy. Better Shura than him, anyway.

"Who'd want to hit on such a gloomy guy? It's like saying I'd hit on you, you sadist!"

"I'd never want you anyway, so don't even think about it." There, he said it. Maybe Aphrodite will finally leave him for better targets.

"You asshole!" Aphrodite leaped off his rock and landed squarely on Deathmask's stomach. "Listen to me when I'm telling you something, it may be important! And stop being such a turd when it comes to feelings."

Deathmask often forgot that even with Aphrodite's tastes for sybaritic pleasures, the man was a saint, and knew how to fight man to man. That underlying strength allowed Aphrodite to pin his hands above his head. His pride and his head stung from the sudden pin down.

"Ow! Ow! Get off me!"

"You'll always be the stupid unfeeling bastard that you are unless someone tries to reform you. You deserve to be beaten up to a pulp!" Aphrodite smirked. Deathmask bucked and twisted, trying to escape. "Maybe I should be the one to do that, huh?"

"Aphrodite, you're pissing me off!"

"Here comes heaven's punishment!" Aphrodite pulled back his free hand, balling it into a fist. "Tell me a good reason why you don't want to listen to me today, and maybe I'll let this slide."

Oh, shit, Aphrodite looked serious. "I just don't want to bother with feelings!" he shouted, before screwing his eyes shut. Deathmask braced for the punch.

Aphrodite planted a soft kiss on his lips. "You're the one who said that, not me," he whispered against Deathmask's still parted lips.

"Idiot!" he roared, but Aphrodite nimbly pranced out of the way, laughing merrily as he made good of his escape. Deathmask was left scrubbing his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to remove the sweet tang of their kiss.

"That is definitely not going to be part of my routine," Deathmask muttered.

-end Routine-


End file.
